ELEGIAC FANTASY, DELAYED IN GLASS
in memory of David Rattray
Elegy is distance and thereby memory and whisper of the winter wind
that sings between the darkness long mistaken for a light expanding like
the water flower, and a morning redness mistaken for, sometime glad,
brown sugar that melts from grim to wistful,
will you rise to rampant red as peony, good doctor,
theereby, so by "thereby" absence enlarges to touch your body sim-
plified all over everwhere in desire under and around, fround and vari-
ations of some love,
and is warrented, warmest sooth, roses from the merry devil
and urged by urges new, needs to be explored in the service of, in
not centered center, whose will or what directs we do not know, slow,
being so and only so licensed to rovers, these tongues and hands,
what explosions, lassitude, explosion, o lassitudo!
Extollinng, thus, the gratitude and eerie recognition, afterwards the
peace that promises the seed of still future glorious storms.
A temperred doom lies on the rug like history, barring the flight to re-
morseless islands bathed in golden light where was offered immortal fruit.
The given stuck. Suprise! The fool on the hill claimed I would recognize
the foiling fatal speed of time when i reached his speed, but when did,
I scorned his sagesse because the force between our singularities, yours
and mine, was independent of the separating speed.
That history, no crystalline delay, tempered what was called our
frailty in those faroff days and nughts we feared the forest.
Though the archons assuage to mystify, swathe us in their mummy-
clothes, such purposes only yet assuage False Will, False Mask, unrealized
errant Husk and Fate's fell body,
and so by hallt or exercise of stop we
preserve the purity of lust
unfailing light that played on puppet limbs
and in alembic danced.
Indistinct it is to elegize or laud, it is to swing,
foot the ancient round,
under crystal mutable.